Cape Blanco SP

A few takeaways from our last stay: 1) windy, 2) irises, 3) windy, 4) when Richard is clipped in, he doesn’t want to stop, 5) windy, 6) wash the vegetables. Those are the ones to note, but we also both want to remember that we really love the slow pace of this summer so far. Three days seems to be the sweet spot; it’s enough time to feel that you’ve hit the highlights of a location with no time pressure, but also not so long that we need to be conservative with showers or water usage. This is a really nice part of the Oregon coast, the furthest point west in the state. And it’s windy. You know you’re in a place that is windy by default when the local businesses are named “Neath the Wind,” and the menu in the cool local restaurant says, “Breathe the gorgeous clean air! Complain about the wind! Laugh about the wind!” I’m not sure if I’ve gotten across the point: it is windy here.

As is always the case with long trips, we have ample opportunities to work on our marriage. It usually comes down to improving our communication, and we have definitely gotten better over time. We found a new one to work through this time and it had to do with biking together. Since having me e-join Richard on Jay’s Essential Rides is a relatively new thing for us, we are learning what works, and discovering the not-so-much. Having ample time to stay in one spot also means we get to slow down and figure things out, without the added pressure of changing sites, or towing (in wind).

On our second day, we set out to do a recommended ride along the Elk River that was pretty close to the campground. A few things glitched that ended up negatively impacting the ride. The first thing was that the campground is five miles off 101, plus you have to go about a mile on 101 before you get to the turn off for Elk River Road. While I was aware of this because we have driven the road on the way in, Richard, with the visual-spatial memory disability, was definitely not. So when he asked, “Do you want to just ride from the campsite?” I was all “Sure!” Because I have an e-bike. For him, it meant adding 12 windy miles to an already 38 mile ride. As soon as we headed out of the campground, he started to get tense about how the day was going to go, and that tension carried through the whole day. I was glibly unconcerned and unaware of any of this. It also took traversing many unspectacular miles of Elk River Road before we got to the really nice part.

This was all adding to Richard’s ambivalence. Then there’s me, ignorantly riding along, calling out whenever there was a tiny waterfall along the road. Richard had underprepared in terms of food, so as the miles clicked off, his urge was to get to the end as quickly as possible, so that we could turn around and get back before the wind reached its afternoon peak, and before he got really hungry. That’s about the time we hit the gorgeous part of the ride, with rushing waterfalls, incredible views of the Elk River rapids down below, and the surprise appearance of that Tiger Lily (which I’m pretty sure is a Leopard Lily) I have been searching for over the past several days.

If you’re reading this blog, you know that the way I register traveling joy is by taking pictures. Every time I stopped to take a picture, Richard would have to stop and unclip his bike shoes. You can probably imagine how this turns out, also because the last picture I took was of that lily. At that point, he told me he was going “ride on.” “Ok!” I called out with a smile, figuring I would catch up to him as soon as I had taken adequate pictures and verified they were not blurry. I didn’t see him again until the end of the road, which was about five more miles. By that time, my bike battery was at 60%, which meant I needed to start being conscious of not pushing the intensity if I wanted to make it back to the campground. And in fact, I have learned that the battery goes down in a non linear way, which means it holds a higher charge for a long time, and then depletes at a faster rate as it goes down. So being at 50% half way through the ride does not mean you will make it back with pedal assist, even at the lowest setting. I was not a happy biker when I found him at the end of the road. So we had some regrouping to do.

It usually takes some time before we can both reflect on situations like these in order to figure out exactly what went awry. And then we have to talk it through so we can understand each other’s perspective. I learned a couple of very valuable lessons, as did he. What I now know is that “civvy” biking, and “kitted up” biking are two very different things for him. This makes complete sense. If he’s kitted up in bike clothes, with shoes that clip into the pedals, he wants to go and not stop much. Totally fair. I also learned that I, the one without the visual spatial disability, need to be much more engaged in route awareness before we set out. I would have known instantly that this was going to be a substantial ride. That would have told me: I need to bring the backup bike battery, Richard needs to bring more food, and we should definitely cut out those 6 extra campground miles and go park at the bottom of the road. Boom. Most problems solved right there.

The ride was about fifty miles, the longest I’ve done on an e-bike, and a no slouch ride even for Richard. The last six miles were brutal. Have I mentioned the wind at all? Richard thought he might get blown over, especially on the 101 part that went over a bridge. I had been turning off pedal assist as much as I could, but really needed it in the headwinds. By the time we hit the last (windy) uphill mile, my battery was at 7%. But it made it! And he made it. And he ate food. And we didn’t get into a big fight, in spite of all of this. And we figured all of this out the next morning. So we’re doing good!

The rest of the stay was really nice and totally uneventful. We hiked out to see the lighthouse, and then went down to the beach. This place is Iris abundant, with all kinds of different varieties of these little Pacific Coast Natives, springing up in happy clusters absolutely everywhere. Down by the beach, there was a guy flying a remote controlled glider in loop de loops above the coastal cliffs. It was remarkable to watch him control this thing and not lose it to the gusts.

We also hiked down to see the Hughes House, a preserved historical residence, built in the late 1800s. The docent volunteers have an impressive depth of knowledge about the history of the area, and of that family. That was well worth the time.

The last activity of our stay was to hop down to Port Orford to visit the other historical site: the Lifeboat Station. Again, the volunteers have tons of information and are more than happy to talk to you about the history. I was mostly impressed with a scale model someone built of the cape. The detail was incredible, with little pieces of driftwood on the shores, and in the water, tons of tiny trees, even with some dead trees to add to the realism. There was a tiny whale in the water off the coast, and sea lions basking on the tiny model rocks. I would go there just to take a close look at that model.

Also, the views from the loop trail are really breathtaking. You can see down to where the boat house used to be, and still see the sea wall protecting the cove. There are miles and miles of coastline, and again, lots of wildflowers. Even a Leopard Lily spotted from afar.

The capstone to the visit was an early dinner at “The Crazy Norwegian.” We split piping hot clam chowder and chili, and delectable fish tacos. For dessert: warm Marion Berry pie a la mode. OMG so damn good.

Fantastic stay! Also: windy. But I will note that the campground is nicely sheltered from it because it is set deep in a forest of trees. Though we could hear and see the tops of the trees whipping around, it registered only as a steady breeze down below. It isn’t until you step out of the shelter of the forest that you get blasted.

Total miles from Jedediah Smith: 89.4, 15.3 mpg, 2 hours 25 min. Site 8 electric and water hookups. Yay! No dump. Great cell service for both. 6 miles off highway 101. Freaking crazy windy.